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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29987670">The Kyoshi Island Beach House</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashicanhaz/pseuds/kashicanhaz'>kashicanhaz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Explicit Consent, F/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Sharing a Bed, Vaginal Sex, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, not quite pwp though, the barest whiff of a premise</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:08:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,685</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29987670</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashicanhaz/pseuds/kashicanhaz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been years since Katara and Zuko have seen each other, and neither of them have quite managed to get over their childhood crush on the other. Unfortunately for them, Suki's parents' beach house is short on bedrooms.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katara/Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>312</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Kyoshi Island Beach House</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldilocks23/gifts">goldilocks23</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I found out my dear goldilocks23 was ill, so I wrote her this piece as a feel-better fic. Thank you so much to fictionissocialinquiry for the beta-read and the general hype! It has been an honor to work with you.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Sokka, ow, my ribs.”</p>
<p>He gives her one last squeeze, and then gingerly sets her back down with a put-upon sigh. “You wouldn’t have to worry about your ribs if you <em>visited more often</em>,” he grouses, and then tousles her hair for good measure.</p>
<p>“<em>Hey!”</em> </p>
<p>“Hey <em>yourself</em>! When was the last time anybody messed with you, huh? I’ve gotta make up for lost time.”</p>
<p>“Ugh,” Katara groans, but her face betrays her amusement. “I’d been hoping that getting married would have forced you to grow up <em>at least a little bit</em>.”</p>
<p>Sokka snatches up the luggage off her person with a smug smile. “Not married <em>yet</em>, little sister.”</p>
<p>“<em>Ugh,”</em> she giggles, socking him in the arm. “You know what I mean.”</p>
<p>He shrugs a little, casting an arm easily around her shoulder and pulling her close as they walk.  </p>
<p>The captain of the ferry she’d taken from the mainland had been willing to make a special trip to drop her off at the private dock by Suki’s family’s beach house. Dad and Gran-Gran were staying with Suki’s parents in the village, but the rest of them—Zuko, Aang, Toph, Mai and Ty Lee—were meant to split the beach house. Sokka and Suki would be staying there too, on the grounds that they’d been cohabitating for years, and that there was no need to artificially separate the bride and groom before the wedding. </p>
<p>That, and they wanted to take some extra time to celebrate with their close friends. It was so rare that they were all able to get together, between everyone’s various obligations; Katara makes an effort to see who she can when she can, but that mostly means Sokka and Suki at the solstice, or Aang when he drops by to check in on her. Toph too, sometimes, when Katara’s travels take her near Gaoling.</p>
<p>Zuko, though, she hasn’t seen in <em>years</em>. She’s excited, if a little nervous too, to be seeing him again. He’s the only person she makes a consistent effort to write (and that is a habit she tries not to examine too closely) and even though she tries not to bother him with her personal stuff, it’s always touched her that he takes the time to write her back. </p>
<p>Sokka leads her off the docks and towards the modest beach house, prattling animatedly all the while. She had expected it would be a little cramped—Suki’s made it clear that it’s no Ember Island pleasure palace—but Katara’s excited to see everyone again, and there’s something nostalgic about the prospect of being a little too close for comfort, just like they had been towards the end of the war. </p>
<p>“Oh, also, we hope you don’t mind,” he says a little sheepishly, nudging open the door to the house. “But there aren’t enough bedrooms for everybody inside, so we’ve doubled you up with Zuko,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I figured you’d prefer that to camping outside?”</p>
<p>Katara feels herself blanch. While it’s true that she’s said <em>multiple</em> times if she ever has to camp again, it would be too soon, the prospect of sharing with <em>Zuko</em> gives her pause.</p>
<p>“Uh,” she says eloquently, feeling heat flush her cheeks.</p>
<p>“I’d offer to kick him out, but Suki’s parents said they’d rescind permission to marry her if I made the Fire Lord sleep outside.”</p>
<p>Katara swallows, and shakes herself of the giddy panic bursting in her stomach. They’re friends. She can be cool about this. “Well. Can’t have that the week before the wedding, can we?”</p>
<p>“So you’re okay with it?” Sokka says, perking up as he bumps open the door to the room in question. </p>
<p>The room is quite small, barely affording enough room to walk around the furniture within. Her eyes catch on the bed as the door opens--a simple thing, sturdy looking, and certainly large enough for two adults to sleep side by side, if not especially comfortably.</p>
<p>Well. She supposes that depends on one’s definition of ‘comfortable.’ Or perhaps one’s comfort with one’s bedfellow. </p>
<p>Her stomach flips over. </p>
<p>“Yeah, sure,” she capitulates, and if Sokka hears how her voice breaks, he makes no comment. “We’re friends, right? It’s no big deal.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>(Three hours earlier)</p>
<p>“There’s <em>no way</em> she’s going to agree to this,” Zuko says, tearing his eyes away from the bed to look pleadingly at Sokka. “She doesn’t—we barely talk anymore.”</p>
<p>Alright, so ‘barely’ might be hyperbole, but it’s true that he and Katara correspond rather less than he would like. He hears from her about once every other month, and returns correspondence at the same pace, afraid of how she might interpret a quicker response. That he hangs on her every word, rereads every letter dozens of times, collects them in a lacquered box that lives on his <em>personal</em> desk in his chambers—that’s his business. He knows she’s incredibly busy, and the last thing he ever wants to be is a burden to her, an obligation of cordiality as opposed to a trusted friend.</p>
<p>He wonders when he started feeling more like the former than the latter.</p>
<p>“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Sokka says, folding his arms and leaning against the doorway of the small room. “Katara’s never been great at keeping up correspondence. It doesn’t mean that you’ve grown apart. I’m sure it’ll be like no time has passed at all, when she gets here.”</p>
<p>Zuko clenches his jaw, balling his fists in the privacy of his overlong sleeves. That would be just the problem, though—because if it’s like no time has passed, then he’s doomed to repeat his disastrous teenage attempts at courtship, following her around like a lost puppy-cub, thirsty for her attention and aching for her approval. </p>
<p>In the years since, he has tried to sell himself on the idea that his attraction to Katara is theoretical. That he’s in love with his idea of her, rather than the woman she actually is. </p>
<p>“...Is there a futon somewhere around here, at least?”</p>
<p>Sokka frowns. “Where would you even put it?”</p>
<p>Zuko also frowns, squinting at the floorspace at his feet, maybe a foot and a half in breadth.</p>
<p>“...I can figure that out later.”</p>
<p>“Look, I’m not worried about you with her, alright?” Sokka says, ducking into his field of view. “I trust you like a brother. And I’m sure she does too.”</p>
<p>Zuko grimaces. While Sokka was probably right, and that was probably for the best, <em>like a brother </em>was the last thing he wanted to be to Katara. </p>
<p>Well. Maybe not the <em>last</em> thing, but it wasn’t very high on the list. </p>
<p>“We’ll see what she says, I suppose,” he sighs, voice tight in his throat. </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Katara gets settled and makes the rounds, greeting and giving out hugs to Suki, Toph, Aang, Mai and Ty Lee. And while she tries not to be obvious about it, she’s scanning her surroundings for Zuko the whole time, pulse elevated, her gaze catching on any snatch of movement she tracks around the house.</p>
<p>After she manages to excuse herself from Ty Lee’s exuberant gushing, she finds him a little ways away on the beach, tucked under a tree and watching the waves roll in. He’s clothed casually in a sleeveless tunic and loose pants, hair unbound, leaning back on his hands with one knee bent. Even the most cursory glance reveals the way his body has changed—shoulders broadened, arms rippling with pale muscle, his hair cascading well to his mid-back. The line of his jaw is stronger than she remembers, and shadowed faintly with dark hair that he couldn’t grow there last time they’d seen each other.</p>
<p>Her mouth goes dry at the sight of him.</p>
<p>In all their years of correspondence, she’d always imagined him how she’d last seen him, either in person or on the news broadsheets—stiff and formal, wearing the spiked yoke and crown of his station, brow heavy and expression serious. It gave her space to separate her memories of him from the man he’d become. Now, though, she has to reckon with the fact that he’d become unspeakably handsome, remaining all the while the compassionate, thoughtful friend she’s always cherished.</p>
<p>He must hear her breath catch in her throat, because he turns, and his eyes widen at the sight of her. For a moment he seems pinned, caught, but then she gives him a smile and a little wave, and he nearly sags with relief. He rolls up onto his feet, smiling in a way that starts shy but broadens with every step she takes.</p>
<p>Her trepidation melts away in the warmth of that smile, and she hurries over with her arms spread. When she hits his chest, it’s solid and so, so warm, and it strikes her that he smells the way he used to, and spirits had he always been so damned <em>tall?</em></p>
<p>“Hey Katara,” he says, breath buffeting her hair as he speaks. “Long time no see.” His voice is lower than she remembers, but that raspy quality that she always found so soothing is still there, and it rumbles pleasantly in his chest where she’s pressed up against him.</p>
<p>“Hey yourself. What are you doing all the way over here? Are you hiding?”</p>
<p>“From you? Wouldn’t dream of it,” he insists, drawing away from the embrace, but his face looks a little guilty. She chuckles—it seems his political career hasn’t made him any better of a liar.</p>
<p>“You sure?” she smirks. “Did Sokka talk to you about the sleeping situation?”</p>
<p>He turns away from her a little, wincing visibly. “He did,” he says, cheeks flushing pink and a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “For the record, I told him you’d never go for it.”</p>
<p>“I mean, I’m fine with it if you are.”</p>
<p>He whips his head around. “You are?”</p>
<p>She shrugs in a way she hopes looks nonchalant, even as her pulse ticks up in her throat. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? We’re friends, Zuko. And I don’t remember you snoring terribly or anything.”</p>
<p>He blinks at her, brow furrowed just slightly; slowly, he closes his mouth.</p>
<p>“...Are <em>you</em> okay with it?” she asks.</p>
<p>“What?” he says, coming back to himself. “Oh, yeah, I mean—of course, I was just…” she watches him cast about for a moment, biting her lips to keep the amusement from showing on her face. “I never want to make you uncomfortable…”</p>
<p>Warmth blooms in her chest, and she tries to bring some of it into the smile she beams at him, because despite his intriguing new body, <em>this </em>is achingly familiar—Zuko tripping over his own feet to be deferential to her, prioritizing her comfort and giving her space, so beside himself with respect for her that he’s half stupid with it. No wonder she had a crush on him the size of Omashu, when she was a teen.</p>
<p>It doesn’t seem so far away anymore, that crush.</p>
<p>“I know you don’t,” she says gently, stroking her hand down his arm—and oh, spirits, maybe that had been a mistake, because it makes her want to map the bulge of his muscles with her fingertips. It takes a conscious effort to keep her hands to herself. “And if you ever do, I’ll tell you, alright?”</p>
<p>“Seriously, Katara. I’ll sleep outside if you want me to.”</p>
<p>But she’s already shaking her head, hand resting on his forearm. “Quit it. I’ve had enough of this. We’re both adults, and we’re friends, and this doesn’t have to be weird.”</p>
<p>His mouth snaps shut, and she sees something stirring in the amber of his eyes. “If you say so.”</p>
<p>“Good,” she says, patting his arm before (reluctantly) letting her hand drop. “Now. I think Sokka said something about grilled fish?”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>It’s even worse than Zuko had feared.</p>
<p>He had anticipated that she would look different, all grown up—last time they’d seen each other she’d been barely fifteen, all coltish limbs and cheeks still rounded with childhood. But she has a woman’s figure now, with a snatch waist and lush curves and the long, strong limbs of a master bender in her prime. It was all he could do not to gawp open-mouthed, like Sokka at a buffet, when she’d approached him on the beach earlier.</p>
<p>It’s all he can do not to gawp open-mouthed <em>now</em>.</p>
<p>Katara keeps tossing him little smiles across the campfire, cheerful and entirely too lovely. She leans forward when he speaks, listening even when others won’t. She makes him feel seen in that way she always used to, the way she always has, and it’s just as nourishing as it had been when they were younger.</p>
<p>Agni, how is he supposed to get any sleep in a bed next to her? How is he supposed to do anything other than try to memorize her face, or the sound of her voice, or the cadence of her breathing?</p>
<p>The fire’s burnt down to embers when she stands up, stretching in a way that reveals a stripe of midriff to his hungry eyes. He makes an honest attempt to tear his gaze away, but the pull of her soft brown skin is too strong. He thinks he can see her skin prickling against the chill of the night air, and his brain unhelpfully reminds him that he’s <em>uniquely</em> skilled at keeping things warm.</p>
<p>“Well, I’m going to turn in, I think,” she says, looking at him the same way she’d been looking at him all night. “You can stay out here as long as you like, Zuko, it’s no problem.”</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” he says, springing to his feet. “I’m tired too.”</p>
<p>She raises an eyebrow at him as he follows, but doesn’t challenge him, slowing her pace so he falls into step beside her. She makes idle remarks about how nice it is to see everyone again, and he agrees in wordless hums, suddenly feeling like his tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth. He knows that they’re not <em>going to bed</em>, not like that, but his pulse does not seem to have gotten the message, thundering in his veins with all the urgency it would have if this were the main event.</p>
<p>She lets him open the doors for her until they get to their room again, turning to face him on the threshold, brows pinched and biting her bottom lip.</p>
<p>“So I...wasn’t anticipating that I’d have to share a bed,” she says carefully.</p>
<p>His heart falls, and he tries not to let it show on his face. His mind is ten steps ahead of him, imagining trying to get comfortable somewhere on Appa’s broad tail along with Aang and Toph. It’ll be just like old times, he tries to tell himself.</p>
<p>“...Is that alright?”</p>
<p>His head snaps up, realizing he hadn’t been listening.  “Uh, yeah, of course. I can figure something out.”</p>
<p>She narrows her eyes. “What’s there to figure out? Are you going to loan me a pair of pants?”</p>
<p>Zuko blinks. “I...might have zoned out, for a second there.”</p>
<p>She rolls her eyes, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “I <em>said</em> I only brought a shift to sleep in. So I hope you’re not scandalized by my bare legs,” she repeats, folding her arms across her chest.</p>
<p>He blinks again. His cheeks must be red as his regalia, by now. “Oh. Uh. As long as you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable.”</p>
<p>She smirks at him, eyebrow raised. “I’m going to hold you to that,” she promises, and bumps the door open with a hip. “Wait here. I’ve got to get changed.”</p>
<p>The door shuts in his face before he has a chance to agree, and when he exhales, he sees the faintest curl of smoke drift up from his nostrils.</p>
<p>
  <em>Agni, spare me.</em>
</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Her heart is in her throat when she closes the door, quickly stripping out of her traveling clothes to shimmy into the thin sleeping shift she’d brought with her. As she unwinds her chest bindings, she curses herself again for not packing adequate pajamas, knowing full well how the shift rides up during the night, ending up bunched around her stomach as often as not. She yanks it on over her head, trying to hurry so he isn’t standing awkwardly in the hallway for too long, but when she smooths her hands over her chest she suddenly feels inadequately covered. A quick peek in the looking-glass on her bedside table confirms that her nipples are <em>definitely </em>visible through the fabric, and she curses again, struggling out of the shift to re-wrap her chest in haste before pulling it back on. </p>
<p>She hates sleeping in her sarashi, but she’d hate worse to make Zuko uncomfortable. Once it’s tucked and tied, she crawls under the thin quilt, tucking it up high under her chin.</p>
<p>“Okay, you can come in,” she calls, embarrassed by the way her voice cracks on the last word.</p>
<p>The door creaks open, and Zuko stands on the threshold for a moment, eyes wide and wild as he takes in the room as though for the first time.</p>
<p>Spirits, was he this uncomfortable with the idea of sharing a bed with her? Had she even <em>asked</em> him? Oh La, what if he’d been hoping she’d reject him on the beach so she could give him an out. Had she read this entire situation wrong?</p>
<p>“Uh, can you face the other way while I get changed? I don’t really wanna get changed in the hallway.”</p>
<p>She winces at her lack of forethought, and rolls over. “Sorry…”</p>
<p>He rumbles something she doesn’t catch, and then the only sound is the sound of rustling fabric. Well, that, and the racing of her heartbeat in her ears, so loud she half worries he can hear it.</p>
<p>“Uh.”</p>
<p>“What is it?” she asks.</p>
<p>“I, um. I didn’t pack a sleep shirt.”</p>
<p>“...Oh.”</p>
<p>“...Maybe I can ask Sokka--”</p>
<p>“It’s alright, Zuko,” she says. “I’m alright if you are.”</p>
<p>“Are you <em>sure?</em>” he asks warily, the bed dipping further as he settles himself under the quilt. “Because I can figure something out if you need me to change—”</p>
<p>“Zuko, it’s <em>me</em>,” she pleads with him. “You don’t have to be so worried,” she continues, rolling over to look him in the eye.</p>
<p>Oh. </p>
<p>She’d <em>definitely</em> thought the bed was bigger than this.</p>
<p>Zuko blinks at her owlishly from where their noses almost brush, her knee nestled against his thigh. The quilt is only pulled up a little past his waist, leaving almost his entire chest bare to her, and inexorably her eye is drawn to the starburst scar on his sternum, still faintly pink and spiderwebbed around the edges.</p>
<p>Her hand moves of its own accord, settling on the center of the scar. She doesn’t miss the way his breath hitches at her touch, or the way her own heart skips a beat. She swallows, and finds his eyes again, pupils wide in the dim light.</p>
<p>“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, remember?” she says, embarrassed at how breathy her voice sounds. He lets his breath out in a little sigh, and she feels it ghost over her face, soft and hot.</p>
<p>“Right,” he swallows. The moment stretches between them, sharp and tense as she watches his gaze skip from one eye to the other. </p>
<p>She rolls over to stop herself from leaning in, from making the mistake she’s been aching to make from the moment she saw him again. “Can you get the light?” she asks, balling her fists at her sides and willing herself to stay still, to find some way to fall asleep with him beside her.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Zuko lays frozen for long minutes after he bends the light out, making a conscious effort not to clench his jaw. He’d been so close to curling an arm around her waist, pulling her in, and kissing her with all the fervor of his six years of wanting.</p>
<p>Had he imagined the look in her eye? The way her lips parted, quivered, the way her tongue had darted out for a moment to wet them? Certainly he had an active imagination when it came to Katara, but that was much more vivid than it was usually capable of.</p>
<p>She shifts. A minute later she shifts again. She continues to shift, her legs brushing his from time to time; he says nothing, determined not to ruin her chance at comfort by reminding her who was here in the dark with her.</p>
<p>She sits up and huffs.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” she says, aggravated. He winces, but before he can offer to leave again, she asks, “Can you roll over? I need to take my sarashi off. I’m going crazy.”</p>
<p>“Oh, sure,” he says, dazed. He listens to the fabric rustle on the other side of the bed as she presumably peels herself out of her shift, plucks open the knot on her wraps, unwinds herself and shimmies back into her sleep shift. He can’t help the thought of her soft breasts swinging freely with the movement.</p>
<p>He feels a familiar heat building in his groin.</p>
<p><em>Agni, I am your loyal servant,</em> he thinks. <em>Please do not do this to me.</em></p>
<p>She gets back into bed with another sigh, shimmying a little as she eases herself back into a comfortable position. “Spirits, that’s so much better. The knot was digging into my spine, no matter how I laid.”</p>
<p>“That doesn’t sound like any fun,” he says, still trying to distract himself from the image his mind had conjured of her breasts beneath the thin fabric with no luck.</p>
<p>“It wasn’t,” she agrees, finally settling in the sheets. “Thanks for understanding.”</p>
<p>“What are friends for?” he says, cringing at himself. She laughs a little in response, going still and quiet. For a long time he listens to the even draw of her breath, acutely tuned to each little shift, each tiny noise. Eventually relaxation settles over him, and he starts to lose his grip on time, feel himself drift on the edge of sleep.</p>
<p>But then she starts to shiver.</p>
<p>He sighs inwardly, sending up another private curse that all of this was happening to him, before rolling onto his side to face her back. “Katara.”</p>
<p>She shivers harder, her body curling in on itself. He reaches out and places his hand on her arm, hoping to wake her gently. </p>
<p>“Wha—”</p>
<p>“Are you cold?” he asks. “You’re shivering.”</p>
<p>“I…” she trails off, taking stock of herself. “Uh, yeah, kinda.”</p>
<p>“If you want,” he says, voice scratching in his throat. “I’m pretty good at warming things up, if you don’t mind me touching you.”</p>
<p>“...Yeah, alright,” she says, her voice sounding tight even as she scoots backward towards him, shifting until her back is pressed against his chest and his knees are tucked under her thighs.</p>
<p>His groin stirs again, and he immediately revisits the image of Uncle lounging in the hot springs to quiet it. He takes a deep breath and bends his body temperature up and out, his heart leaping when she makes a happy little noise. Her head lolls back against his shoulder. </p>
<p>“Tui and La, you weren’t kidding.”</p>
<p>“Firebending has a few perks.”</p>
<p>She hums, wriggling closer. “You can drape your arm over me if you want,” she says. “My front is kinda cold too.”</p>
<p>Gingerly, he snakes his arm over her waist, biting his lip when she curls her arms around it and hugs it to her chest. She’s so soft all over, except where a tiny pebble of something presses into his forearm.</p>
<p>He remembers her sarashi, folded hastily and set aside, and even the image of Uncle all naked and proud isn’t enough to keep his interest from announcing itself. He tries to shift away from her, but she chases after the warmth, which ends up with her accidentally grinding her backside into his—</p>
<p>She freezes, but miraculously doesn’t pull away.</p>
<p>“Oh, spirits. I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“...I think I’m the one who should be sorry, Katara.”</p>
<p>“I wasn’t even thinking—”</p>
<p>“It’s just a reaction, I can’t help—”</p>
<p>“I know,” she says, voice reluctant and apologetic. “It’s really—I’m fine if you’re fine, I’m just <em>really</em> sick of being cold.”</p>
<p>He hesitates for a moment. While he knows that the situation in his pants isn’t going to resolve itself while pressed against the firm curves of her ass, he knows <em>she also knows</em> that, and was asking him to keep her warm anyway.</p>
<p>Very slowly, he draws her snug against him, flattens his chest against her back and tucks his face against her neck. “Well, I don’t want you to be cold.”</p>
<p>She settles into the embrace with a little sound like a sigh, and suddenly this feels like the most natural thing, like they sleep like this all the time.</p>
<p>He surrenders himself to the moment, letting himself float in the bliss of the contact. It helps that none of this feels entirely real, like it will disappear with the mists in the morning. When she shifts he follows, burrowing closer, curling tighter around her. Idly, he starts to trace little shapes in her skin with his nose, and she sighs against him, melting into his chest.</p>
<p>It’s the easiest thing in the world to brush his lips there, where her shoulder meets her neck. He’s not even entirely conscious that he’s done so, moving on instinct as he whispers the dry part of his lips over her skin. </p>
<p>When the littlest sliver of the wet inside catches there, she mewls.</p>
<p>He freezes, but there’s no mistaking her reaction when she whimpers, pressing back against him. He drops another kiss there, more brazen, more insistent.</p>
<p>“<em>Oh,” </em>she gasps, “is <em>that</em> how it is?” and then twists in his arms to lock her elbows around his neck.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>At first she thinks he’s just nuzzling her, and even though it makes heat flare in her belly, there’s nothing to be done about it. Then, though, his lips go straight to that spot on her neck that makes her feel like wildfires are rippling across her skin, and before she has a chance to second-guess herself, she rolls over to show him exactly what she thinks of <em>that</em>.</p>
<p>They bump noses in the dark for a split second until he finds her mouth, and she feels more than hears the rumble of a groan in his chest when he does, latching his lips to hers with searing intensity. She gasps into his mouth, cupping his cheeks with her palms and sliding her fingers into his hair; he curls one arm over her waist and up her back, and tucks the other under her head to hold her up.</p>
<p>Katara has been kissed plenty of times. She’s no stranger to intimacy. She’s well versed in her own pleasure and how to guide others to theirs; nothing about this kiss should feel so staggeringly new.</p>
<p>His kiss is like none she’d ever felt before. It steals the air from her lungs, turns her belly to liquid, makes her want to wrap her limbs around him, serpentine, and never let go. He makes all these little noises against her lips that drive her wild, kneads his fingers into her waist, nudges her knees apart to situate his thigh between hers. The space between them shrinks to nothing. </p>
<p>It occurs to her, belatedly, that he <em>wants</em> this. Must have wanted it for a while too, she guesses, from the way he kisses her like a man starved. She doesn’t think about what it means that her hunger flares to match his, that his touch soothes an ache in her chest she’d been ignoring for a long time now. </p>
<p>He breaks away, panting. “We should probably talk about this.”</p>
<p>She kisses her way down his jaw to nip at his pulse point. “Talk about what?”</p>
<p>“Uh,” he trails off. “What this... means?”</p>
<p>“Later,” she insists. “Busy now.” She dips in to kiss his lips again, slow and dirty, and brings his hands up to her breasts to underscore the message.</p>
<p>“...Yeah, okay, later.”</p>
<p>She giggles into his mouth and lets him roll them onto her back, and she finds she likes the weight of his body settled over hers, the opportunity the new position affords her to trace the rippling muscles of his torso. He makes use of the new leverage to kiss her senseless, pressing her deep into the pillows and skimming eager hands over her body, unconcerned as the hem of her sleep tunic bunches up and up and up.</p>
<p>“What do you want tonight, Katara?” he rasps in her ear, latching a searing kiss to the hinge of her jaw that makes her forget how to use words for a moment.</p>
<p>“I—Don’t stop,” she pleads, too far gone to be embarrassed at the whine in her voice. “Don’t stop; keep going.”</p>
<p>He chuckles, voice low in his chest, and really, it was <em>entirely</em> unfair that his voice has turned out like that. </p>
<p>His hands slide up the outsides of her thighs, over her hips, and feather at her ribs, bringing the hem of her tunic up all the while. “Did you still want this?” he asks, tugging on it, “or do you think I can keep you warm enough without it?”</p>
<p><em>Fuck</em>. “You can keep me warm enough,” she whispers in a rush.</p>
<p>She can just catch the glint of his smile in the moonlight before the shift hits the floor. He lowers his face to the task of kissing her newly exposed chest, coaxing cautious little mewls out of her that cut through the stillness of the night. </p>
<p>Even far gone as she is, she’s all too aware of the cramp of this house, the way every little noise carries between the thin pinewood walls. He grazes his teeth over a nipple, and she has to bite down on her knuckle to keep herself from crying out, her whole body bowing to mold against his. He makes a pleased noise against her skin.</p>
<p>“I wish we were someplace you didn’t have to be quiet,” he laments, pressing reverent kisses into her stomach and reaching back to caress her calves.</p>
<p>“Keep that in mind for next time,” she whispers, and he groans low in the back of his throat.</p>
<p>He starts to pull at her wrappings, getting the band around her hips loose before he remembers to ask, “Is this—can I—?”</p>
<p>“<em>Yeah</em>,” she whines, lifting her hips to help him divest her of the fabric, and for a second the cool night air is a shock to her warm and swollen core, but then his warm breath chases away the chill.</p>
<p>“Oh, Zuko, you don’t have t—” </p>
<p>He cuts her off with a slow, purposeful lick that lingers at her clit, wringing a stuttering gasp out of her. “This is my favorite part, though,” he rumbles, and then leans back in to prove it.</p>
<p>“<em>Well</em>,” she says, breathless. “Wouldn’t want to deny you your favorite part—<em>fuck</em>, Zuko!”</p>
<p>It becomes much more difficult to keep quiet, after that.</p>
<p>After <em>quite a bit longer</em> than she’d ever been treated to before, he lets her down, carefully shifting her thighs off his shoulders and wiping his mouth on his wrist. </p>
<p>“Spirits, you’re fun,” he mumbles in the dark, stretching out beside her and propping his head up with a hand. He smirks at her and settles a hand low on her abdomen, at once a comfort and a promise.</p>
<p>She, for her part, is still trying to catch her breath, and finds it all a bit unfair that he gets to look so cool, smug, and otherwise unaffected by the exertion of his activities. If it weren’t for the faint sheen of moisture on his cheeks, or the particularly messy state of his hair, he could simply be lounging in an entirely innocent capacity.</p>
<p>“You know, it was almost hotter for me to hear you struggling to keep quiet,” he continues, voice low and sultry as he trails his fingers up her body, making her shiver. “Might have to keep that in mind.”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah?” she taunts, wincing at the winded sound of her voice. “Care to let me test the theory?”</p>
<p>His eyes spark in the moonlight, and he shifts a little closer to her, letting her feel his hardness through his pants against her thigh.</p>
<p>“What did you have in mind?” he rasps, sliding his hand up her chest in a sweeping caress.</p>
<p>“Hm,” she says, propping herself up on an elbow to kiss him, slow and firm. “Take these off, first.”</p>
<p>He maintains eye contact while he works open the knot and shimmies out of his pants, shielded from her view by the quilt.  She leads him back to her lips by the chin, drinking in the taste of herself on his lips while she reaches for him. When she skitters her hand up his shaft they both groan, anticipation flooding her anew as she takes measure of him.</p>
<p>“On your back,” she murmurs, and he scrambles to obey, bed creaking a little as he settles himself down. His eyes are as wide as they go, pupils blown, lips parted in reverent disbelief as she straddles him, sitting back on her heels and letting him skim her wetness. She takes advantage of her position to draw her fingers over his sculpted chest, watching it rise and fall with his heaving breath.</p>
<p>“Agni, you’re a vision,” he whispers, molding his hands to her hips. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…”</p>
<p>“Flatterer,” she smirks, pinching a nipple to make him hiss.</p>
<p>“Is it working?”</p>
<p>Leaning down, she braces her hands on either side of his face as she comes to brush her nose against his. She tilts her hips so he slides against her as she does, and he takes a sharp breath, bucking minutely against her.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” she grins, and then rolls her hips back onto him, sheathing him deep.</p>
<p><em>“Shit,”</em> he groans, entirely too loud. “Agni. Fuck. <em>Katara.</em>”</p>
<p>“Not so loud!” she admonishes, giddy with the praise. “Spirits, Zuko, you’ll wake the entire house!”</p>
<p>“Well,” he grouses back, “you could give a guy a little warning.” He wriggles beneath her, biting his bottom lip. “Damn, you feel incredible…”</p>
<p>“Ready? You have to be quiet.”</p>
<p>“Agni, <em>yes</em>.”</p>
<p>She leans forward, pulling almost all the way off of him as she gives him a leisurely kiss, and then rocks back even more slowly, swallowing the tiny noises he can’t help but make. His hands on her hips help her find a rhythm, grinding slowly into the spot that makes her whole body sing. He hits her in all the right places, seeming to know just how to touch her, to kiss her, to praise her to make her feel good. She can’t recall ever having this easy of a first time with anybody else.</p>
<p>But that may be because he’s <em>him</em>.</p>
<p>She feels her peak mounting, drawing nearer and nearer with every stroke, and she starts to chase it with single-minded intensity, fisting her hands in the pillow beside his head to keep herself quiet.</p>
<p>“Agni, Katara, I’m—I’m gonna—”</p>
<p>“Hang on, I’m almost—”</p>
<p>“Okay,” he gasps. “Okay, I—yeah?”</p>
<p>She throws her head back, nearly sobbing with the effort of holding in her moans. She feels the drop, and then she’s fluttering around him, feeling him strain to keep it together for her.</p>
<p>“Fuck yeah, yeah Katara, that’s right, Agni you’re so beautiful, <em>ah</em>—”</p>
<p>He clamps his hands down tight on her hips, holding her still and burying himself as deep as he can go. The muscles in his neck strain as he throws his head back, and the sound he makes, though quiet, is the most erotic thing she’s ever heard.</p>
<p>She keeps still as he comes back to himself in pieces, first relaxing his neck and shoulders, then the grip of his hands on her hips. He’s slack-jawed, eyes aglaze, looking up at her like she might be more spirit than human, his own personal blessing. </p>
<p>She bends the sweat off his brow when she leans in to kiss him, trilling a sigh against his lips as he slips out of her gently. His lips are soft and sweet beneath hers, and his hands come up to stroke circles over the center of her back. The tenderness of the moment flips her stomach, and she feels suddenly dizzy, as though falling from a great height.</p>
<p>“Wow,” he breathes against her lips when she draws back. “That was—wow.”</p>
<p>She chuckles against his cheek, feeling the barest scrape of stubble starting to form on his jaw as she places a kiss there. “Eloquently put, Fire Lord.”</p>
<p>They take a moment to clean up when the afterglow dims; waterbending has its perks too, as it turns out. He pouts when she puts the shift back on to tiptoe out to the bathroom, but he looks shocked all over again when she ditches it to get back in bed, eyes wide like he cannot believe his good fortune.</p>
<p>They curl up face to face again, her hand over his heart, his hand drawing circles over her back. The long days of travel finally start to weigh on her, but she fights to stay conscious a little while longer to enjoy the smokey-sweet scent of him, and the little kisses he peppers over the parts of her face he can reach.</p>
<p>It feels so <em>right</em>, so easy. She wonders if she hasn’t always known it would be, hasn’t always wanted him, at least on some level.</p>
<p>“This isn’t it, is it?” he says, startling her when she’s nearly asleep. He sounds distantly sad, and it makes her heart pang to hear. “This wasn’t—we won’t—”</p>
<p>She squeezes the hand she has in her grasp and presses a kiss to his collarbone. “This is only the beginning, Zuko. Of whatever this is. But we’ll discuss that tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” he whispers, and if he says anything else, she doesn’t hear him.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Zuko wakes the next morning in a hazy state of bliss. The night before hardly seems real, but when he opens his eyes in the pale early sunlight, Katara is there, dozing naked in his arms.</p>
<p>He can’t think of a reason to stop himself anymore, so he kisses her awake, and they fool around for as long as he thinks they reasonably can without getting caught. Tearing himself away is one of the hardest things he’s ever done, in more ways than one.</p>
<p>Everyone gathers for breakfast around the firepit again, and to his heart’s delight Katara doesn’t even try to play it cool, plating up two bowls of jook and then plopping down right beside him. When she hands him his bowl, he notices she’s spooned a healthy portion of fire flakes straight on top, and he very nearly kisses her for it, in front of her brother and everyone.</p>
<p>“So how did everyone sleep?” the aforementioned brother asks, rather more chipper than Zuko can recall him being in the past. The others respond with a chorus of “good’s” and “fine’s,” but Zuko and Katara both keep their mouths shut.</p>
<p>“And you two? Sleep alright?” he asks, sitting down across the firepit with his breakfast. He looks at them, expectant, and Zuko feels his cheeks heat.</p>
<p>“Yep,” Katara says brazenly. “I slept fine—what about you, Zuko?” she adds, turning her face to give him a look that he knew meant he should say something, but he finds he can’t remember anything about how he slept the night before apart from <em>her.</em></p>
<p>“Oh, Zuko, buddy, good news,” Sokka interrupts. “Suki’s dad’s cousin has a futon she can lend us, if you’re fine with setting it up in the living room or something?”</p>
<p>“I, uh—” he shoots a panicked look at Katara, who gives him the smallest shake of her head. “No, actually,” he says, swallowing as he places his hand between her shoulderblades. “No, I think we’re good.”</p>
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